


When The Dust Settles

by marvelmedigeekfics



Category: 9-1-1 (TV), 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelmedigeekfics/pseuds/marvelmedigeekfics
Kudos: 62





	When The Dust Settles

“So this is the 126.” Buck remarks, looking over the station from the 2nd floor.

“Best station in the greater Austin area,” says a voice behind the 118 crew.

They all turn around to see the guy you think of when you think Texas. “Hey, Judd, nice to see you.” Eddie says, to the raised eyebrows of the rest.

“How you been, Eddie?”

“Good, good. Judd, this is Buck, Hen, Chim and Bobby. Everyone, this is Judd.”

They all wave, and Buck is first to bring up the friendliness, “How do you two know each other?”

“Baseball rivals.” They both say at the same time. “Little league and high school.” Judd finishes.

“So, where’s the rest of your people?” Hen asks, after an awkward silence.

“Right here!!” calls the rest of the crew.

“Judd, why don’t you introduce us?” says Eddie.

“This here’s, Marjan, and then we have Paul, TK and not probie. Captain’s in his office.”

“My name’s Mateo, actually.” Not probie says.

“And these guys are Buck, Hen, Chim, Captain Bobby, and Eddie.”

—

The two crews sit down to lunch, meeting the paramedic crews, as well as Captain Strand.

Over authentic tacos, the crews bond a little. The 118 crew isn’t looking for anymore hospitality, until the sky suddenly turns dark.

“The hell?” Paul says, standing first.

“Tornado?” Chim asks.

“Nope. Dust devil.” Eddie and Judd say at the same time.

The Texas crew races to action, pulling on turnouts and preparing for the alarms. Dust storms are notorious for coming out of no where and taking controlled burnings to an unquenchable blaze.

Sure enough, the klaxons blare and the Texas crews head out. “What are we supposed to do?” Buck asks, “Go?”

“We stay. And help.” Bobby says, surveying the sky, which has turned to streaky orange.

“Cap’s right. People always head to fire stations when things get bad.” Hen says, looking around for something, before running off to a stock room.

“It’s not like we can drive anywhere. Zero visibility.” Chim says, following Hen to the stock room.

“Yeah. Kinda wish we had privileges in Texas.” Buck sighs.

“Plenty of good can come, even without having an engine. Let’s go prepare.” Bobby says, leading Buck and Eddie toward Hen and Chim.

—

“Sure you’re good, TK? Dust is bad for asthma.” Captain Strand asks.

“I know, Dad. I’m good. Don’t worry. Let’s go fight a fire.”

Burnings are common in March and April, when the rain holds off most of the danger. But dust storms and fire, they ignore that.

“I was burning tumbleweeds and then the wind came up and—” the man gestures to the growing blaze behind him.

“That’s at least 3 acres, Cap,” Judd says.

“Dispatch, we need air support. Growing blaze, at least 3 acres.” Cap radios.

“On it.” Dispatch chirps. “Headed your way.”

To his team, Cap lays out the plan, “Water what you can. Stay safe, stay back.”

The team grabs the hoses and begins watering the fire down as much as they can. Dust is still assaulting everything, fueled with at least 55mph winds. Air support was needed and needed now.

10 minutes passed without any sign from air support. “ETA on air support?”

“Air support just had a plane go down, there’s only 4 working ones. All of which are containing other fires. No ETA, Captain.” Dispatch replies.

“I hope this doesn’t spread to the corn.” The caller says to the captain, “I was supposed to crop dust tomorrow.”

“Crop dust! That’s it! Do you have a crop duster plane? Here?” Captain Strand replies.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you fly it with water in it?”

“Yes, sir. That’s perfect!”

—

Back at the 126, the 118 hold down the fort. As Hen said, people did come. Glass cuts were common, with every 118 member at one point, gauzing a different person’s arm.

Dust continued to blow, but harshness slowly returned to minimal by the time the 126 crew got back to the station.

“So, how was y’all’s first dust storm? They don’t have those in either coast, do they?”

Mateo chuckles, “None in LA, at least not while I was there.”

“I forgot about the dust.” Eddie says.

“Traded dust for smog, transplant?” Judd teases.

“Hey, now!” Eddie snickers at Judd’s awful humor.

“I’ll stick to earthquakes,” Hen says.

“Ooh, tsunamis!” Buck and Marjan say at the same time.

“Snowstorms for me.” Bobby says.

“To be real, dust storms are a lot better than rebar or getting stabbed.”

“Dark, man! That was dark.” Paul replies to Chim.

“For real, though, I can’t complain about dust storms. You know you’re in Texas, when you just thank God it wasn’t a tornado.” Eddie says.

“True that!” The combined crews agree wholeheartedly.

“I’ll drink to that!” Captain Strand says, “Water, of course. Our shift isn’t over.”

“To dust storms not being tornados!” TK says, raising his glass of water.

“To dust storms not being tornados!” The team clinks their glasses together.

“To us!” Captain Strand and Captain Nash say together.

“To us!” They clink again.

“To new—” Buck begins.

“No more toasts, Buck. We need sleep.” Hen says, lowering his arm.

“To new friends!” Marjan picks it up. The crews clink. “Never leave a toast unfinished. You’re welcome, Evan.”


End file.
